


Pluto and Proserpina

by Heartrush



Series: The Inuyasha Pantheon [2]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/M, I am merely using the Roman equivalent of their names ;), Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartrush/pseuds/Heartrush
Summary: Her curious hand cups his sculpted cheek, blotting out the harsh purple marks that grace that side of his face. His skin was shocking, crisp, looking fairer underneath the yellow-rose tone of her own flesh.
Relationships: Rin & Sesshoumaru (InuYasha), Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Series: The Inuyasha Pantheon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641892
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	1. Bliss

High ceilings invoked dread the moment one stepped into the underworld. It looked abysmal, overwhelming, a sublime darkness meant to remind a person that time was up.

A constant chill was in the air, and she made him light a fire. He remained cold, she gained her color back in her cheeks. She made him sit with her by the fire as well, to his chagrin.

He is not shrouded in black, like the world he ruled. In fact, he is draped in tones of white, with sharp unforgiving features. The softest thing about his person is the silky hair that falls down his back.

He was decidedly ignoring her. He brought her to his land and never explained himself. Sitting across from her, he stared through her.

Her curious hand cups his sculpted cheek, blotting out the harsh purple marks that grace that side of his face. His skin was shocking, crisp, looking fairer underneath the yellow-rose tone of her own flesh.

“Why?” she whispered, trying to hide the urgency she felt. Stuck inside a world of the dead when she herself brought nature to life every spring.

His hand came up to hold the wrist skimming his jaw. Sharp nails tickled her; her skin seemed so much thinner right then. “You need to stop asking questions, girl.”

The rebellious hand of hers ignored his grip on her wrist and traveled further beneath his curtain of hair. Reaching further back, her breath struggling to come out, she fingered the pointed tip of his ear and he bent his head away.

“Stop,” the deep rumbling voice managed to carry an air of meekness.

“No,” she crawled into his lap, petals shedding from her and falling around them. “Why?”

A busy hand left her wrist and rested on her waist, as if it was a completely normal action.

“You are not fair,” she whined softly. Her head drops to his shoulder and she closes her eyes when he inhales deeply.

Fingers thread through her own hair and she shivers. She wonders what he thinks of her hair. Brown, muddy. Like the soil that begets her season. Not like white, the picture of blankness.

Thick hair was swept behind her ear and he leaned down to whisper to her. “Life isn’t fair, and neither is the afterlife.”

If her body could get closer to his, it would. She used the only thing she had against him—her aptitude for catching him off guard.

His neck was there for the conquering. Exposed. He was clever, but she could tell he wasn’t considering it a weakness at the moment. His hand was too busy massaging her waist.

Her lips pressed against his neck the same way his own pressed against her ear. Dauntlessly, she let her tongue taste the skin there before she sucked slightly and ended her exploration with a kiss.

“You,” he groaned, claws digging in to her skin and making warmth spread between her legs. “You smell like a garden. They don’t...grow here. Nothing does.”

She couldn’t resist a smile. But he mustn’t know or he will go back to his icy demeanor. She pressed her happiness into the skin on his neck, hoping to give it to him.

“I ask again, dear,” she spoke from the crook of his neck, “why?”

“Dear,” he repeated.

“Dear.” she affirmed.

He paused. “Death is only dear to you.”

“And what am I to you?” she retorted, enjoying all the more that she’s cracking the pallid shell that he wraps around himself.

“Death cannot be without life.”

“That’s why,” Her head came up to look at him. Pale amber eyes met her own, half-lidded with smoldering black pupils. “Now I know.”

“You should have known,” he scolded, his tone flat. She watched the apple of his throat bob as he swallowed his frustration.

“Excuse me,” she propped herself up on her knees, reluctant to leave the safe space she created at his shoulder. Both of her hands, emboldened by his words, held his pristine face once more. “You’re only this candid in bed.”

His lip twitched, but he stayed calm. His facial expression remained unchanged, beauty unmarred by something as mortal and imperfect as a wrinkle.

Mortality was something she admired greatly, with random clusters of flowers and full green trees covering her mind in hope. The beauty of the finite, each human year that passes and she gets to do it all again and surprise herself.

It was why she had a portion of hair tied up at one side, because, why not?

She thought about pulling his face forward to hers but wished to tease him longer. A man so used to striking the fear in human souls should feel helpless from time to time.

Slowly moving towards him, she kept her eyes on his. She had the pleasure of watching his pupils expand in anticipation. His mouth opened automatically, breath puffing out and caressing her lips before she claimed his.

“Mm,” he hummed in her mouth and tried to dive forward with their lips still together. She remained an obstacle and stood firm, however, because she had her own plans.

He pulled away from her, the closest thing he’s done to acting petulant. She smiled, moving her hands to his broad shoulders, gently pressing them away from her so he leaned back.

Elbows touched the floor and he refused to go down further. The lax look of his position was delightful to her. Slumped and with a heady expression; was she really looking at a king?

She disrobed him easily, the silk of his clothes sliding easily under her soft fingertips and coming undone. His body was a vision, an artwork. Humans may talk about the aesthetics of bustling flowers and clear waters but a steady marbled rock that persisted no matter what held its own majesty.

“You are beautiful,” she whispered, hands lovingly moving along his pelvic bone. She grasped his member in her hand, the size dwarfing her fist. Steady and punishing, indeed.

His gaze held her firmly. It felt like his eyes were everywhere, as if he can see through her clothes and knows of the wetness at her center; as if he can see inside her heart and the place she has for him there.

Love buzzed through her chest, it pollinated her entire body and she was growing with the need to taste him. She leaned down and took his dick into her mouth and she sighed in pleasure.

Without delay, she enjoyed herself with her mouth on him. She could not take much, she was inexperienced until he captured her, but what she lacked in finesse she made up for in perseverance. She deftly twisted her fist along the rest of his shaft where her mouth couldn’t reach yet and she sucked, concentrating on the head. Her tongue swished along his shaft behind it, a few nights ago his hips barely bucked upward into her mouth when she did it.

He let out a muffled growl, and she hummed happily right on to his bulging member. Slipping her mouth away from him, she let a trail of saliva follow her escaping lips and spit some of the built up fluids she had in her cheeks on to his dick. His was slick now, her hand was able to stroke him with ease.

“You,” he gasped. She looked up.

She could tell he wanted her. It was the excuse she needed to conquer him the way spring ends winter. Removing her own outfit in a haphazard motion, she crawled over his body and kissed his speaking mouth.

Her bottom was quirked up, hovering over the tip of his dick but not sitting down. She had become so wet with want that she dripped down into him.

Not providing a warning, he used his elbows to angle his hips up and slam into her. She shrieked, fully seated in his lap, blushing and breathing heavily from her shock. The song of fire crackling accompanied her breathlessness.

He still had that petulant look, desiring more.

“Come here,” she whines, reaching her arms out and placing them on his shoulders to beckon him closer. He complied, one hand coming up to massage her round breast and thumbing her pink nipple. The other hand was still propping him up, fully extended this time.

His chin rested in the crook of her neck and he licked her skin and bit in deep. Her pussy spammed around his cock, enjoying the sharp pain and pinching pressure of his sharp teeth holding on to her before he started bucking from below her.

“Ah!” she hugged him tightly and this ended up dislodging his mouth from her. “Mm!”

Fluids sluice between their bodies, gyrating hips and her trembling form being a sparkling combination for the both of them. She felt the small wound on her neck drip some blood down her chest and trail on her ribcage.

His hands forcefully push both of her arms back and she squeals. Her arms were now behind her, hands flat on the floor. Her back was arched because of this, somehow pushing him deeper and she clamped down tight on his dick. The frigid floor under her palms began to crack and crumble, revealing soil and allowed grass to sprout under her palms. Her nails dug into the familiar vegetation and the blades snapped.

This happened every time he made her lose control. A meadow would appear under them, growing infectiously and bringing color to their home in the underworld. Vines wrapped around weathered columns, hanging flowers around them. His presence will wither them within a day, by then she’d have created more foliage somewhere else.

Head dipped down, his smooth tongue started tracing the line of blood that ended right beneath her breast. His lips opened greedily on the soft mound, giving it a kiss and briefly sucking the flesh into his mouth. His sharp teeth framed the suckled skin and her hips jumped involuntarily. He moved up to her nipple and nibbled the bead.

“I—“ she cried out, the word love on her lips, but she stomped it out in a wave of uncertainty. “I want more.”

He released her breast and licked the drying blood up to her collarbone. “More?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, rolling her hips on him and feeling his hard dick rigid within her.

His hands grabbed her hips and made her rise and bounce on him. “Then move.”

Her knees scraped the ground, another layer of pulsing pain that made beads of sweat rise on her skin and dance down the curves of her body. She felt more of the soil underneath her knees after a bit, dirt smearing on her legs while she pleasures herself. He was watching her move, a slight rumbling in his chest as he hummed his own approval, sharp exhales coming from his nose when she tilted the right way.

She was feeling brave enough to defy him and lifted her hands from where he placed them to give herself a more comfortable position as she rode him.

“Oh, dear,” she whispered quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck as the overwhelming sensation of him made her entire body flare up with shakes. Fibrous dirt streaked his once clean back when she gripped him for some stability. Her hands were trembling and her hips jolting on him and she kissed his neck. She put her kiss swollen lips on his skin and did exactly as he did: licked the skin, then bit. She was not strong enough to break his flesh, but he growled and began pistoning into her from below.

He was moving so fast that she was floating in a thick cloud of her own pleasure. Usually their lovemaking was a slow burn, but this was a welcome change of pace. A winding feeling that typically happened slowly and passionately was quickly reaching its breaking point.

She cried out enthusiastically and he pulled her down on his hips as they reached their climax together. Not willing to move, she managed to get closer to him in his lap and hugged him tightly. He reciprocated, something he did not usually do when they weren’t intimate.

“You make an exceptional queen,” his voice quiet and deep with reverence. He did not pay compliments often, despite the fact that he captured her says the most of any words he’s ever said to her.

She looked up at him. “I-I do my best.”

“Good,” and then he found her lips again.


	2. Rapture

It isn’t often that he will leave the depths of the underworld to walk on human soil. He’s found himself in a congested forest, trees tall and plenty. From his home he could hear the old wives’ tales about how dangerous it is, how people who go in there never come out. But he is a god, and he didn’t believe in old wives’ tales. Humans knew who they should fear more: him, the inevitable time where he gets to cart them off to their personal oblivion.

Grass dies under his feet as he walks through the enchanting forest. The further he walks in, the more tree trunks seem to curl in on themselves, forming an arching path. Light is beaming through the informal structure and his eyes sting for a moment. Tightly, he closes them to soothe the ache, and once his eyes open again he has a laser-like focus. 

Flowers begin to pepper the area as he’s approaching; he can see that he is heading somewhere different. The grass is slowly overtaken by a sea of colorful flowers, and he stands in the beauty, with his black clothes and white hair; a scarecrow in a field. Wilted petals surround his toes, he sees a flower half crushed beneath the sole of his boot. 

A faint hum reaches his pointed ears and he is alarmed. The sound is soft and whimsical and he is surprised he feels drawn to it. He can barely hear the noise but it causes a vibrating warmth in his chest that causes him to blindly follow the melody. It grows louder and louder, he is inordinately pleased to get closer to that hypnotic melody. He gets close enough to finally decipher that it is a lone woman, not a band or instrument, just her own vocal chords creating a bell-like harmony that is ensnaring him so. 

A woman. 

He’s brushed off many courtesans, outright refused proposals, and given harsh glares to nymphs who attempt to seduce him. But this woman’s voice has managed to pull him towards her, and she is completely unaware.

He should stay away from her.

Burning curiosity gets the better of him. He has lacked the euphoria of childlike wonder for so long that he is swept away by it all, and he is walking at a faster pace. A figure finally appears in front of him, and it’s just her back: long hair like his, but pure black. She wears a peasant’s attire and sits dead center of the meadow.

She’s looking up at the sky and singing. 

He takes another step and she turns to look at her intruder. 

“Oh, hello!” 

Anchored in place and mesmerized by her face, he merely stared. The gauzy fabric she wears is bunched along her bare shoulders, and he finds himself licking his lips.

“Do you want to sit down with me?”

“Mm.”

And he does. His clawed fingers lace through the flowers as he sets his palm down on the ground. They dry out instantly, turning a muddy brown and crunch.

“I see,” she whispers and looks up at him. Their faces are much closer now, and he can smell  _ just her _ , not the musk of a million flowers under his nose. Her eyes are sharp and playful looking, tilting upward, her mouth puckers on its own and her nose slopes into a charming upturn, much like the rest of her features. She covers her hand with his. 

“Me too.” 

Looking down at their hands, he watches the remains of nature regain its color. The flowers he withered with his morbid touch are alive and fragrant again, petals splayed out on his fingers. 

He can hardly speak now, utterly beguiled by her aura and wishing to be closer. He remembers berating his obsessed siblings, those who tattoo love on their very soul all for the sake of another person who can disappoint them. He thought he didn’t have that soul, he assumed he was immune, meant to be a subject of ire and grief and that alone. But here this woman is.

His head dips down towards her, she is petite and he can tower beside her. Her breath flutters on his lips and her face comes a centimeter closer. 

He just met this woman. He should handle this meeting with care. 

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. 

She invades the space on her own, touching his lips with hers without warning. He’s the one who jumps, looking at her with a startled expression. He suppresses how unbecoming it is for the lord of the underworld to be so squeamish. 

Something inside him cracks, like fine porcelain.

“I’m sorry, I...” she stutters and curls her body away from him to look at the flowers to the right of her. His gaze follows, and he sees that she’s been collecting them into a bouquet.

“I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to. I don’t even know you yet and I’m over here kissing you!” She hasn’t turned back to him and he is becoming restless without looking at her. All he sees is her hair folded behind her ear, the expanse of her neck, an inviting earlobe...

He leans down and kisses her bare shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

She shoots around and his face is suddenly met with her collarbone, which he kisses as well. She tastes heavenly, though he knows heaven doesn’t exist, but if it did... it would be her. She seems to put blood in his veins, gives him a heart to pump quickly at each one of her hesitant ministrations, the tickle of the tips of her fingers making him dizzy.

“Oh...” She moans, putting her small hands on the crown of his head. “I guess you feel this way too.”

His tongue comes out to lick the dip where her neck is and she pulls him closer.

“I’ve never done this before,” she says quickly. 

His head comes up to meet her gaze. He soaks in her entire visage, from her delicate hairline to her toes curled in the grass. 

“Neither have I.”

She smiles so brightly he almost feels the same sting the sun gave him earlier, but this time the beam is penetrating him deeper. He leans forward to claim her lips again and she obliges with newfound energy, the shame of inexperience leaving her as both of them lay themselves bare for one another.

As her tongue opens up his mouth, he feels light bloom within him like it never has before. Sunlight has found its way inside of him, the crack she created in him moments before becoming a fissure, then a void, one that fit her perfectly. In desperation he lifts her into his lap and she giggles melodiously. He can feel their mere energies fighting one another, his inclination to destroy being overgrown by her immense power of life. Her laugh elicits one of his own, a deep and bellowy chuckle he’s never heard before.

Their energies are cycling together in such a pleasant thrum that they effortlessly find themselves face to face, him watching her from above. She’s framed by all of the flowers peeking around her thick hair, flowers she brought to life. Pollen and perfume floats to his nostrils and he is overcome with hunger, with an insatiable love that couldn’t be contained in just one roll in nature’s garden.

Her garden.

Down he goes, enveloping her mouth in a searing kiss that smears her joyful cry between them. She’s clutching his garments, pulling apart the cloak that hides him from her. It snaps open with a satisfying pop, flung over and out of sight. His clothes were as loose as hers, they could get as close as they wanted, their garments feeling like mere blankets between their bodies.

She’s hiking her legs up over his hips and grinds over his erection. Between her thighs is a warm oasis he desperately wants to explore, though he doesn’t know how he will first. She’s started to shiver against him slightly, hips bucking tentatively against his hardness, which he begins to reciprocate with fervor. Mewling, she begins to kick up her gown, rucking the fabric into an accordion bunch around the top of her hips.

Looking down at her pussy is a divine gift, and maybe there’s a heaven, maybe they’ve been keeping it from him all this time. He may not be allowed to know. But it’s here in front of him, as it should be, in the most beautiful presentations he could have conjured in his own mind. The thatch of hair between her thighs frames her pink slit perfectly. His clawed hand moves over to stroke the seam, a sticky string of wetness clinging to his finger once he pulls away.

“B-by myself, I have...but—“

“Me too.” Their combined naivety strokes the flame that’s started to roar inside of him. It wasn’t the cold blue flames of the hellscape he inhabits, but a warm, fiery red, a vignette of the warm heat of her mouth on his. 

“Have I been waiting for you?” She gasps out. 

He leans down and strokes two steady fingers down the crux of her thighs and she trills in reply. Capturing her lips in a kiss, he tells her the truth, or at least, what is true to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

They are lost in each other’s eyes for a moment, the pregnant silence feeling like seconds. 

“Come here, then.” She smiles softly and wraps around him. Their next moves happen seamlessly, his throbbing dick slicking against her wetness. He didn’t think it would feel so overwhelming, so inviting. He rubbed himself against her, the head nudging her clitoris and taking a few shuddered breaths out of her. 

“Mmm...I didn’t know this could be so good.” Her legs bow open further, hips canting downwards and brushing him closer to her entrance. “Ah!”

He can’t take it anymore, he wishes to give her what she’s given him, a gaping hole that only he’ll be able to fill. He wishes to put a knot in the string that seems to have them tied together, as many as he can, just to forge the bond tighter so that it may never break. Brushing his member up and down her wetness, he strokes her juices along his length and bites the edge of his lip in anticipation. 

Then he’s pushing in, the walls of her pussy sucking him inward while she squeaks at the intrusion. He knows he should go slow, as he isn’t a complete horny idiot like his other siblings, but suddenly he’s empathizing with their recklessness. A pliant, gorgeous woman is panting beneath him, lips glossy and swollen from their shared indecency. There’s a tight pussy hugging him and removing nearly every last rational thought he could have. 

All there is the irrational need to possess her completely. He leans over and pushes in with small thrusts, inch by inch. She’s whining then, gasping for air and pushing her hips upward to ease his cock in deeper. 

“You need more?” 

“I need it all,” she gasps, “Can’t you see?”

He thrusts in all at once and she shrieks with a mix of painful delight, tears streaking down her cheeks and creating more blooms beneath her once they touch the soil.

“You’re beautiful,” he says reverently, quietly. She repeats it after he says it, hand coming up to trail down his neck and pull on the loose fabric of his clothes to reveal a sculpted chest.

“Oh gods,” she wails, “Yes, please—“

The slow canting of his hips becomes swift and punishing, their bodies slapping together with a blunt thud. He’s fully seated inside her, a tremendous feat for such a small girl, but her glittering eyes and the sluicing of their combined fluids tells him not to worry. Her hips twirl slightly under him, and he’s almost blinded by it, in love with the way her pussy grips his cock and how she doesn’t stop talking, even if he doesn’t say anything in return.

She says the filthiest things with such captivating flowers circling her head. He realizes they really are knotting together just like he hoped, the time they’ve spent with each other becoming a permanent imprint on his psyche. He needed her with him, he needed the gifts she has, her zest for life, her gorgeous pussy.

“Come with me, girl,” he groans with his face in her throat and she hums. Their sweat mingles together on his forehead, causing him to slip down her nape slightly and smell the wildflowers underneath her hair. “Come live with me.”

“Anything you want,” she groans, her thighs locking around his hips and pushing him in all the way. “I don’t think I can go on without you anymore.”

He rears upward and looks her in the eye from above, brutal and fast thrusts making all of her assets jiggle and jump while she moans, the meadow’s landscape rustling under the force of their carnal desires. It was music in his ears, a perfectly conducted harmony created by her cries and the steady rhythm of their coupling. 

He's more lightheaded as the time goes on, feeling his spirit nearly exit his body when he finishes inside of her, which her pussy milks hungrily; hers to claim. She jerks in his embrace, holding tightly to his shoulders while she rides off her own precipice.

Somewhere around this world, it is aptly called a  _ little death _ .

"Mmf." He struggles out a forceful exhale through his nostrils. He's never spent, never tired, never satisfied. But she's found a way to pull him all the way down to earth with a trail of lacy florets that led straight to her. Everything in him has been absorbed by her in that instant, a permanent link forming between them.

"You're beautiful," she repeats softly, hand coming to rest between their bodies, over where they've joined. "This is beautiful."

He knows he will never let her go now, even if she attempts to leave. Based on her hazy expression and her half-closed eyelids, he'd safely assume she's not planning to depart yet. Her body spasms around him, a pleasant vibration to feel while his spent cock soaks inside of her. 

"I've never felt so  _ alive _ ," she says wondrously. "I think we've opened up a can of worms here."

"Pandora's box," he hedges.

"Or that," she giggles in return.

The two of them finally choose to untangle after spending an indiscernible amount of time basking in their afterglow. She marvels at the depths of the underworld with piqued curiosity instead of unbridled fear. Beneath her feet, grass manages to grow under every one of her steps.

He's warm, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virginity isn't this painless, for anyone who is reading this when they aren't supposed to (I can't stop you, but I can warn you)!


End file.
